My husband is a very private person. Let me illustrate...
- He didn't introduce me to his parents for 8 months.
-He doesn't want to hire a housekeeper every other week because he doesn't want people going through his things.
- As a child, he locked his comic books up in a little orange chest ( he still has the little orange chest to this day!) to keep them away from his brothers.
-He keeps a passcode lock on his phone (I know the code... he's not hiding anything from me). He "says" it's to protect patient information but really it's so that in case his phone gets lost or stolen, no one will read his text messages. (NERD!)
-"I don't know what it is about your generation that makes you want to put all that private information on the internet!"-direct quote from Ben when I told him that I'm writing this particular blog.
Maybe he's private. Maybe he's borderline paranoid. Don't ask me, I'm just the lucky girl that married him!
(See? See how lucky I am!?!)
Where he is most private, though, is when his patients ask him small-talk questions about his life. He's soooooooo private that he makes up ridiculous, bold-faced lies when confronted with said questions. He readily admits this, too. It's actually hysterical. According to Dr. L.L. Pants-on-fire, I am not a nurse but actually a certified underwater welder and a mason(Brick or Stone or Shriner in training, I don't know, he didn't specify). Also, Lady Gaga was my college roommate. Nevermind the fact that I'm about 5-10 years OLDER than her. It's not important. What's important is that Ben finds it imperative that he shield his patients from the plain ol' dorky/boring truth. Regardless, I love him.
(Look at how handsome and sweet he is! )